


Deliberate Acts

by SpaceshipsAreCool



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, One Shot, Slight Dom/Sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 20:32:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7948039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceshipsAreCool/pseuds/SpaceshipsAreCool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cat can’t help falling when Kara is around to catch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deliberate Acts

If it was anyone else, Cat probably would have blamed the dress.

 

If it was anyone other than Kara, Cat would have forgone her usual tendency to assert that every action on her part was distinctly deliberate. She would have argued instead that she had been an impartial bystander in the events that had led up to this situation and that this outcome had never been her intention. But it wasn’t anyone else, and it was hard to believe that suggestion when the article of clothing in question had long since been ripped away. It was dubious to suggest that it was accountable at all when Cat couldn’t remember where it had ended up—when she didn’t even care enough to look. And it was impossible to make that claim stick when the only things on Cat’s mind right now were the soft moans and sharp cries escaping from the body that was writhing under her, the experience of that body arching into her as her teeth sank into exposed skin, and the reality of it shuddering around her fingers as she pushed into the girl— _her_ girl—over and over again.

 

And so, no, she couldn’t blame the dress—not when this had been building for so long and not when the reason it had presented itself as a possibility in the first place had come about as a direct consequence of her own actions.

 

Because that was how it had started—with _her_ actions.

 

Cat hadn’t necessarily meant for it to go this far, but somewhere along the line, what had begun as a light flirtation, something small and fun that neither party was supposed to take too seriously, had grown into so much more. And that had been entirely her own fault. Cat had provided the driving force in each of the encounters that had led to this, and, as a result, she had somehow managed to not only seduce Kara, but she had also managed to seduce herself.

 

Cat had managed to seduce herself _for_ Kara, and all the girl had had to do was catch.

 

/////////////

 

_Four Months Ago_

 

It is largely understood that cats, as a species, are for the most part elegant beings who always land on their feet, but they are also conceited, and on the rare instances when they do suffer a failure, or a misstep, their dignity demands that they never admit such an… imperfection. If you watch the creatures and are lucky enough to catch that occasional stumble you will notice how said cat will immediately follow up the lapse with a move that suggests that it was the intended action all along. Did the cat fall off a table, or miss a jump? No, it was just arraigning itself into the perfect position to clean that hard to reach spot. Did the animal step wrong and end up flopped down at an awkward angle? Again, no, and what do you mean by, ‘awkward,’ can’t you see how incredibly comfortable that exact placement of tangled limbs actually is? It’s good for your back, really it is, and if you can’t see that, that’s your problem, not the cat’s.

 

And so in this case, the event that had started it all, had Cat accidently placed her heel wrong when pacing back and forth on her balcony? Had she start to fall, arms pinwheeling in empty air, gravity refusing to acknowledge her will? No, no, and no, of course not, because that, those things, they could never happen, not to Cat Grant. Which was why, in the moment after Kara had caught her and stopped the descent, instead of pulling away and thanking her assistant, or even dismissing her and pretending like the thing had never happened, both choices that would have been a clear admission that she, Cat, was _only_ … well, what she was exactly was beside the point, because regardless such an admission was not an option, and so instead her mind had offered an alternative.

 

Instead her mind had suggested, no, _demanded_ , that the incident, the fall, hadn’t been an accident at all. It couldn’t have been, because Cat was nothing if not graceful and poised in all things. Each and every thing she did was part of a plan, a carefully thought out and well executed course of action, and so the fall, just now, obviously it had been intentional.

 

Ok, so maybe, technically, she hadn’t formed this particular plan until _after_ the fall had happened, and maybe, just maybe, if she had been alone the plan never would have surfaced to begin with, but the truth of the situation was, was that she hadn’t been alone. And what reason could Cat have had to slip and fall? What possible explanation could there be to justify it as a premeditated move? The answer was simple.

 

She had started to fall because she had known that Kara was near and that Kara would catch her. The answer was that Cat Grant had fallen _on purpose_ in order to get into her assistant’s arms, to get her own arms wrapped around that young, surprisingly strong body, and place herself in the optimal position to deliver that devastating smirk, the one she knew couldn’t be mistaken as anything other than suggestive.

 

And it had worked, of course it had, because like everything Cat did, like everything Cat was, this plan too was flawless.

 

Kara had blushed, stuttered out an apology, probably for whatever impure thoughts that smirk had sent racing through her mind, and then run off with some half formed excuse. So yes, it had worked, but, as Cat had recovered, as she had watched that fleeting back, she had had to ask. Had it been enough?

 

That was always the difficult question when committing to these sort of cover-ups. Oh sure, Cat had played it off with her usual competence, and Kara had undoubtedly been flustered, but the girl also knew her well enough to guess that Cat would try to smooth over any weakness, and, after a moment’s respite, Kara would probably come to the conclusion that yes, the fall had been an accident.

 

And so there was only one logical thing for her to do.

 

Cat Grant, Queen of All Media, flawless example of a living specimen that she was, was going to have to seduce her assistant. All because she had stumbled and Kara, stupid, annoying, adorable Kara, had caught her.

 

And that meant that Cat was also going to have to make sure that it happened again, because she was proud and stubborn, and she could not allow even the suggestion that she was less than perfect to take root anywhere, not even if it was just in the mind of her lowly assistant. Even if up close said assistant had the most devastatingly beautiful blue eyes, and even if perhaps Cat really wouldn’t mind getting into another uncomfortable position. Not if it meant that she would get to hear that small gasp again, the sound that had escaped the girl’s lips when Cat had ever so slightly run her nails down the small of Kara’s back, and when Cat’s breath had fallen heavily, almost darkly, against Kara’s skin.

 

///////////////

 

_Present_

 

Kara was making that sound again now, amongst a myriad of others, but it was that sound that Cat liked best. It was completely unintentional, uncontrollable, and it was also just so very _very_ Kara. It was Kara in a way that kept Cat grounded, even as the sensation of Kara responding to her touch and the taste of Kara coming apart on Cat’s tongue was threatening to overwhelm her senses and ensure that she would never again be free of this moment, free of this woman.

 

“Miss… Miss Gra—” Cat silenced her with another kiss, pushing Kara back down when she tried to rise.

 

“I’m not done with you yet, Kara, how much longer would you say we have before we need to be back—an hour, two?” She didn’t pause for an answer, however, lowering her lips to the exposed neck and nipping along pale skin and wishing, not for the first time that evening, that she could leave a mark.

 

“I don’t—” this time the words dissolved into a whimper as Cat shifted to press her thigh against Kara’s center, grinding down to make sure that Kara could feel Cat’s own arousal against her leg.

 

“Well, Kara? I’m waiting.” But she wasn’t. Her hand, the one not being used to support her weight above the girl and pin Kara’s own arm in place besides her head, already making its way down between them, nails tracing an intricate pattern across the captive body.

 

“O-one, I think…” Cat smirked at the breathlessness of the answer, allowing her lips to follow the trail of her hand, before taking a detour to close around one taunt nipple, biting down and almost purring in appreciation when Kara’s back arched up into her in response.

 

“Are you asking me or telling me?” She questioned when she finally pulled back, allowing Kara a moment’s reprieve.

 

Kara met Cat’s eyes and there was a question there, an uncertainty, because for all that they had been leading up to this, for all that Kara clearly wanted Cat, Cat knew that part of the girl didn’t trust this, didn’t trust Cat. Part of Kara was wondering if this was just another game, and if she was just another catch. It was why Cat had asked, hoping that the familiar words, the familiar phrasing, would put her at ease by reminding her that this wasn’t happening in a vacuum, but that it was part of something more, something with almost two years of history and depth.

 

Raising a single eyebrow this time Cat did wait, putting every ounce of confidence she could muster into her gaze, trying to share every indication that yes, she did want this, she did want Kara.

 

“Telling,” the reply finally came, and Cat was gratified to see that hesitancy falling away, soothed back by Cat’s clear intent.

 

“Well then, I think it’s about time you started calling me ‘Cat,’ don’t you think, Kara?”

 

And when Kara did, screaming the name as Cat’s fingers slipped into her, Cat realized that she was going to have to take back her earlier thought. Because, this, Kara saying her name in _this_ way, well, it was her new favorite sound, and there was no longer anything left in this universe or the next that could ever hope to keep her grounded again.

 

///////////////

 

_Two and a Half Months Ago_

 

The opportunity arose about a month and a half after that first fall. It was a slow news day which normally Cat would have hated, but in this case she embraced because it gave her the chance to finally implement the next stage of her plan. Because yes, now it was a fully formed plan, and this time, when she fell, there would be no doubt that she had fallen because she had wanted to, and there would be no way for Kara to interpret it as accidental.

 

Taking advantage of the fact that most of the staff had packed up and gone home early, Cat called Kara into her office to get a list of the people who had left first (just because the early day worked with her plan did not mean that she could forgive those who hadn’t even _tried_ to find something to do, or those without the good sense to pretend like they were working, at least until it was almost an acceptable time to leave).

 

She let Kara speak for a minute or so, looking down at a list of names and then rambling on with reasons as to why Cat shouldn’t fire such and such, how so and so was actually quite good at his job, and really, wouldn’t it be best if Cat let this one slide, just this once…?

 

And then Kara looked up and her words came to a stuttering halt, that same, deep blush from the afternoon on the balcony covering her face. Cat had taken advantage of Kara’s distraction to slip out from behind her desk, settling herself on top of it instead, an extra button open on her shirt and the hem of her skirt riding up slightly above what could reasonably be considered appropriate for a professional situation.

 

Which was all exactly as Cat had designed, because she had no intention for this moment to be read as anything remotely professional.

 

“Kiera,” Cat kept her voice low, her gaze piercing, demanding, and she was pleased when Kara took an involuntary step forward, answering her call. “Drink, now.”

 

Kara nodded, her movements jerky, almost too eager, and Cat could practically feel the desire, the _need_ to please radiating off of the girl. Not that she minded, she was a hunter after all, and in this instance, Kara was the prey, was _her_ prey. And so as Kara approached, drink in hand, Cat let her gaze devour her, smirking when Kara finally came to a stop in front of the desk, just slightly too close. Cat’s smile only grew when the hand that offered the glass shook almost imperceptibly as Cat let her own fingers linger for a moment longer than was strictly necessary, a clear indication of the effect she was already having.

 

And she wasn’t done, not even close.  

 

Cat downed the drink in a single gulp, tilting her head back and showing off the long expanse of her neck, letting out a slight moan of appreciation, an indulgence she wouldn’t normally allow herself, as the liquid curled into her belly, a dark heat that she had to admit wasn’t entirely due to the alcohol alone.

 

“Perfect, Kiera,” Cat spoke the words, unable to help herself when she looked back down and saw Kara’s gaze lingering on her throat, and glad she had chosen that phrase when the eyes that shot back up to her own held only the slightest hint of blue, everything else consumed by black. Cat held the contact for a moment longer, and then shifted, lowering the glass to the desk, letting it rest just off the edge, perched precariously in a spot where Cat could move her hand and knock it off at any moment.

 

Kara’s flushed face, if possible, grew even redder with the realization that if Cat moved now she could assert herself, her power with one simple act. If Cat moved now she could have Kara on her knees in front of her in seconds, kneeling as she bent to pick up the glass. But as much as Cat wanted to see Kara give into her in that way, that wasn’t the course of action she had in mind. Tonight had to be the end of it all. Cat didn’t want things to go too far, and Kara bowing before her would almost certainly be something that neither of them would recover from easily.

 

And so instead Cat took the other option.  With the same nonchalance that her namesake would use to knock the glass off of the table, Cat met Kara’s eyes and allowed herself to tilt to the side, knowing that the girl would be there to catch.

 

And catch she did, but oh… Cat had been too flustered that first time, her mind spinning too quickly in an effort to come up with a plan to really comprehend what it was that she had been experiencing under that cardigan. She had realized that Kara was strong, yes, but now, this second time, her hands found themselves pressed flat against the girl’s abdomen, feeling muscles that she hadn’t expected to exist twitch and shiver at the contact, and against her will Cat felt something stir within herself as well.

 

Which was not how this was supposed to go. Just because she had planned all of this—had been mildly intrigued by Kara’s response—did not mean that her heart should be beating this fast now that she was once again in the girl’s arms, it did not mean that her physical reaction, that admitted draw, should be augmented by a… feeling?

 

No, Cat Grant did not do _feelings_. This was not part of the plan, and it was completely unacceptable. But behind the desire in Kara’s eyes there was something else, something sweater, something—something that made Cat want to pull her close and just hold on, sink her claws in and never let go.

 

It didn’t help that during the intervening weeks between that first fall and this one, Cat had been watching the girl to an almost obsessive degree. It didn’t help that, in her attempt to find just such this perfect opportunity to fix the… slight misstep, she had been noticing little things about her assistant. Things she had of course known on some level, but had never really considered or allowed herself to openly acknowledge before. But now she saw them, couldn’t _not_ see them. Now she saw the way Kara cared so much about everything and everyone, and no one more so than Cat. The way she would take extra steps to make Cat’s life that much easier, that much more enjoyable. Now Cat noticed how those ‘Sunny Danvers’ smiles, trademark pending, were somehow even brighter when directed at her, and how every small moment of consideration was met with that same, slightly breathless look of anticipation that hinted at the possibility of so much more.

 

But no.

 

Tonight Cat had carried out her plan out to its end, made sure that Kara could only read this fall as a scripted act, which got her off the hook for that first ‘slight loss of coordination.’ But this was going to be the end of it now. She was determined. Cat didn’t want to hurt Kara after all, not the way she would if she allowed this flirtation to develop or if she continued to draw the girl towards her. It was only supposed to be this one more time before she let it all just fade away into the background, a whisper of a night, a life that could have been.

 

Or at least that was how things should have ended if only Kara hadn’t worn that damn dress.

 

///////////////////

 

_Present_

 

It turned out that she had torn the dress, unable to hold herself back when she had pressed Kara down and gotten her first true taste of the soft skin underneath the material. Cat noticed the tear now, the already low-cut outfit no longer able to offer even a semblance of modesty, and she shook her head before tossing it aside.

 

Her own dress, when she found it, was still perfectly intact of course, if slightly crumpled, because Kara had known better than to damage anything of Cat’s even in those first few frantic moments. Cat started to turn back to the younger woman as she readied herself to slip into her clothes and tell Kara that she would find a coat or something for her to wear and be back, but before she could complete the movement arms circled her waist and she felt the body that she had spent over the past hour memorizing press flush against her own.

 

“Cat,” the voice whispered in her ear, “please, I want…” and then, where those hands had stopped her movement just moments prior, now they were turning her, pressing her back until she came into contact with the wall.

 

“Kara, we’ve been gone for quite a while, I—” her words died as the object of her attention sank to her knees before her, the potential image from that day in the office becoming a reality and Cat couldn’t suppress the growl that built in her chest at the sight.

 

“Let me thank you, Cat, please.” Already Cat’s own breathing had sped up, the burning desire she had felt over the entire course of the evening never quite having found a release, and her hips jerked forward involuntarily at the first hint of lips against burning skin, of soft kisses trailing their way up her inner thigh.

 

“You don’t owe me anything, Kara,” she tried to say, her hand coming down to anchor itself in the girl’s hair. But as Cat tried to push her away a high pitched whine, pleading and desperate, escaped Kara’s throat making Cat throb with the intensity of just how much Kara wanted her.

 

“Kara…” but the girl whined again, tilting her head back to expose her neck, looking up at Cat and waiting for instruction, even as she so clearly wanted to press forward and continue where she had left off. But Cat could see that she would wait for her, wait for Cat’s direction.

 

And how could Cat resist that? What possible reason could she even have for trying?

 

Earlier she had looked down at Kara and done what she could to assure her that, yes, she did want her and, no, this wasn’t a game. Kara had responded by moving past her hesitation and placing her trust in Cat—something that Cat had attempted to follow through on by focusing solely on giving to the girl, and not demanding anything for herself. In the two years where Cat had done so much to only take, she had wanted this first time to be different. But now Kara was asking her for something, asking for the first time when she had never done so before.

 

Pushing aside her own conflicting thoughts Cat looked at Kara, really _looked_ , and considered what it was that Kara needed. And Cat could see from the way Kara stared up at her, the way Kara waited, holding herself back but pleading and hopeful, that what Kara needed was her. Kara needed Cat to take what Kara was offering. Take it, because in order to do so Cat would have to give herself as well in a way that was different from how she had given to the girl already. What Kara needed was for Cat to allow herself to be vulnerable, presenting the same level of trust that Kara had, and Cat would not deny her that. Cat would not deny her anything.

 

Her hand tightened its grip on Kara hair but this time, instead of pushing back, Cat pulled her forward, shuddering in pleasure when she felt that first almost tentative swipe of a tongue along her slit.

 

But oh no, that wouldn’t do.

 

“Harder, Kara,” she directed, her voice losing all sense of indecision knowing that the girl would respond to her tone. And where before there had been the whine, now Kara hummed happily at the guidance, darting forward to take Cat into her mouth with more confidence.

 

It didn’t take long; Cat had been on the edge since the first moment Kara had walked in in that dress, and she threw her head back against the wall, her grip tightening once again with a bruising strength as teeth teased and scraped across her clit.

 

“Fuck, Kara,” she pushed her hips forward, opening herself up more to the younger woman, knowing with complete certainty that Kara would keep her upright even as her legs began to shake.

 

And then Kara was inside her, two fingers entering her and curling in the same moment that lips replaced teeth, sucking on the small bundle of nerves and Cat fell apart. And all Cat could think in the moments that followed, blinking down at the naked Kara kneeling just for her, was thank god that she had torn that dress. Thank god, because why would she ever want Kara clothed again when this image was the result.

 

////////////////////

 

_Earlier That Evening_

 

Cat had tried, really she had. She had tried to fit them back into their strictly professional mold, but the problem she hadn’t accounted for was the fact that they had never really fit into any mold to begin with.

 

She hadn’t quite realized that before, she hadn’t realized that Kara replacing one of her whiskey tumblers with M&Ms during her second month as Cat’s assistant would have been a fireable offense if it had come from almost anyone else. She hadn’t thought about those shared working dinners that had started after five months, dinners that she had started to enjoy—to _crave_ even. She certainly hadn’t bothered before to think about how freely and easily physical contact was exchanged between the two of them. How, even prior to that first time Kara had caught Cat in her arms, there had already been those little touches: the straightening of a collar, the brush of fingers over an arm, or, even on those late working nights, a hand placed high on a thigh. It was something that had come to feel so natural that Cat hadn’t even realized it was happening.

 

Now that she was aware of those things, however, it had become impossible to ignore them, to let them pass with the same, unnoticed ease. It had become a constant struggle not to feel her heart skip when Kara stood by her side, or worse yet, feel her heart clench when the girl disappeared from her desk during the day only to see Supergirl appear on the screens moments later to battle the latest alien menace.

 

Because that was another thing that Cat could no longer ignore—that Kara was Supergirl. And really she should have put it together much sooner, but her nice little oblivious bubble had kept her from realizing that truth until after she had felt that body pressed against her own. Until after she had traced those muscles through the fabric of Kara’s cardigan and realized that she was experiencing a strength that wasn’t entirely human. That, combined with her constant inability to keep from over-analyzing every interaction between the two of them and from possessively reaching out to gather every new piece of information about the girl that she could, had brought the hero’s identity to light. She knew it was another reason why she should hold back, because really Kara was too good for her, and yet at the same time that was also another reason why she could not look away.

 

But she had tried, oh she had tried. Maybe it would have worked too, eventually, but then came the night of the yearly party Cat threw for charity and Kara had shown up in that dress. That dress with its slit up the thigh that revealed so much and the plunging neckline that made Cat both want to bite her lip and stare for hours, even as it also made her desperate to throw a cardigan on the girl so that no one else would see. That dress that was, on top of everything else, _red_.

 

Which was a problem for Cat. For some reason that she had never been able to fully explain, things that were red, particularly of just that bright, almost glowing hue, had always held a sort of unavoidable fascination for her. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, Kara’s movements throughout the evening had seemed almost purposively designed to taunt her even though Cat knew that in reality it was Kara being a good assistant and taking care of the guests. But that didn’t change the fact that, as Kara flitted around the ballroom floor darting and weaving between bodies and always managing to stay just inside of Cat’s peripheral vision, Cat was completely helpless to block her out. And so minute by minute Cat felt her tension build higher, that little red dot dancing around, and Cat’s fingers twitched with the desire to reach out and catch the girl, to capture her and hold her in her grasp.

 

That wasn’t even the worst of it. No. The worst part came when Kara _would_ stand still—when she would pause to talk to someone and some deep instinct in Cat would cry out that this was her chance. Every time Kara came to a stop, Cat would feel the hair on the back of her neck rise and the muscles in her legs strain begging to be allowed to snap forward and press Kara to the ground—regardless of anything else that might be going on.

 

And so she followed Kara when the girl exited down a side corridor, unable to stop herself from chasing after that fleeting flash of color. The sounds of the party faded behind her as the tail end of the dress disappearing around a turn or the echo of a heel against marble floors pulled Cat further and further away, until finally she caught sight of Kara standing perfectly still in a secluded room, and Cat could no longer hold herself back. She had been wound tighter and tighter all evening and, once a respite was offered, she _itched_ to pounce.

 

It was the moment she had been waiting for, and it was so easy…

 

Cat found herself moving before she fully realized what she was doing, could consider why Kara was alone in this room, or ask herself why Kara had led her here—because of course, as Cat would come to understand later, Kara had known that Cat was following. But as Cat flew forward none of that mattered, because Kara was turning and her arms were coming up to wrap around Cat, not halting her forward momentum but drawing her closer instead. And as they came together, as lips met and that infuriating red dress was torn away, Cat realized something else. She realized that she may not have physically fallen this time but she had fallen, and in the end it really didn’t matter if it had been deliberate or not just as long as Kara was there to catch.

 

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> So much thanks to Rtarara and abcooper for edits/first reads. They are magical creatures and amazing writers so go read everything they’ve ever written.


End file.
